Mirror Image
by bennynotbunny
Summary: A DA crossover & SI in one. Alistair and a modern-day OC, are pulled into the land of Skyrim and cross paths. Eve finds herself lost in a world she should know. Alistair is not what she expected, she sees a stranger when she looks in the mirror, and with each passing day her memories retreat further beyond her grasp.
1. Reflection

_$900!?_

I hoped that the shock resonating through my brain wasn't also broadcast across my face.

_$900 for a bridesmaid's dress, and not just a dress, the first of three dresses!_

A year ago my head would have exploded, but after spending countless afternoons in countless fitting rooms with what would soon be my second cousin's new mother-in-law, I'd learned to expect the worst, price-tag wise at least. Taste-wise . . . it was a toss-up. My cousin Paige, although she considers herself "high-fashion", has a taste level that runs more along the lines of . . . well, Barbie. Everything I tried on for the first three months was glittery, or sequined, or feathered or ruffled.

Frankly, I was relieved when her somewhat overbearing soon-to-be mother-in-law stepped in. My relief lasted for about five minutes, until Celia, mother-of-the-groom from Hades informed me, with a look of mild distaste, that she'd signed me up for weight-watchers and a gym membership so that I wouldn't ruin Paige's day by looking "less than perfect."

That was 50lbs and about 500 hours of cardio ago. As much as I'd wanted to slap the woman at the time, I've been enjoying my svelte size 6 self for some time now. At this point I should probably thank her. I smirked to myself as I thought of getting through all those horrible spin-classes just to spite her.

And today, as the assistant finally finished buttoning and lacing, and the curtain in front of the mirror was pulled, my mouth dropped open. The champagne colored satin and lace confection looked like it was made for me, from the sweetheart neckline and empire waist to the way the skirt had been modified until it was somewhere between a mermaid and A-line silhouette with a court length train.

Celia appeared from the hall-way and gave me a cool once-over. "Thank goodness Simon was finally able to fit you properly for lingerie. It makes all the difference."

_A $300 difference. _ I thought to myself.

That morning a few weeks ago spent with the effeminate Simon, was at best, awkward. At least until he brought out the champagne . . . after that we had quite a bit of fun. Enough fun that I now have lingerie from designer's I can't pronounce appearing in my wardrobe on a regular basis. I've also been to several drag shows staring Si'mone LaFab. Good times. Celia has no idea.

Celia gave me a slight smile. "The well-endowed have to put forth extra effort for these sleeveless gowns that are so popular now. Believe me, I know."

I felt myself flush slightly and glanced down at my "finally" under-control cleavage. That's one area that will always be round, no matter how much cardio I do. Fortunately, it's the good kind of round. I'd forgotten about the gold sparkly corset/undies/stocking combo I was wearing under the dress. I fidgeted slightly, feeling warmer than I'd like.

I watched dazedly as ridiculously high heels were slipped onto my feet and what I prayed was heavy costume jewelry made its way around my neck, onto my wrist, and through each ear. A long champagne satin sash was pinned in place with a sparkly broach.

_Dear Lord!_ I thought to myself. _I feel like a caricature of a rich woman._

I didn't balk until someone came in with a large box and pulled out a white and gold fur cloak complete with hood and gloves_, "_Ooooooh, no. No-no-no-no. No! No fur!"

I was assured it was faux fur and that neither fox nor raccoon had been harmed in its making. I rolled my eyes as it was draped around me and then yelped as something stabbed me right above the collarbone. In my attempt to reach what I assumed was the offending broach or clasp or spare straight pen, my weight shifted on the impossible high heels. I took a quick step in an attempt at balance and shrieked as I went topping off the edge of the fitting podium and straight toward the huge now un-curtained mirror.

I threw my arms up in front of my face on instinct and turned my head. I heard the sound of shattering glass, but it felt like I was falling through jello. I reached out instinctively trying to get purchase. I felt a strap of some kind flit through my fingers, but I couldn't hold on. I landed with a thud everything went dark.


	2. Pine Needles and Sky

A vaguely familiar shuffling sound pierced my consciousness, and I felt my brow winkle as I tried to place it. My eyes fluttered open. I was looking at pine needles and sky. Sitting up carefully, I couldn't help but shiver in the cool air. I pulled the fur cloak closer and nearly jumped out of my skin at the dark hair cascading down my shoulders until I realized that it was mine.

_I have blonde hair, what the . . . ? _

Looking around I saw that I was sitting on a large rock ledge in what appeared to be temperate wilderness. I stood carefully and leaned back against the rock wall behind me. My dress appeared to be unharmed.

_Thank God for small miracles. _

I brushed some pine needles off the hem of my cape and pulled the hood up as a chill breeze hit me. I looked around for a moment, and noticed what appeared to be the strap of my bow sling hanging from a nearby tree branch. I tried to take a step and tripped. _Damn heels! _

_(_At this point a short explanation is probably in order. I ended up in my second-cousin's wedding party to begin with because I introduced her to her fiancée. He and I met through a local archery club, and as the wedding approaches, he's been picking me up from these fittings and taking me to the range and then dinner. He says it's because I'm the only bridesmaid he likes that Celia can stand and he needs pointers on how to deal with Paige's famous temper tantrums. I think it's because I'm the only female Paige doesn't bitch about him hanging out with. Anyway, that's why there was a compound bow, in a sling, leaning by the mirror on the floor of the dressing room – happy?).

I edged my way toward the tree branch and sighed in relief (for some reason) to find my bow, in sling, all accessories happily attached, dangling within my reach. After retrieving it I carefully removed my bridesmaid gloves and stored them in the inside pocket of the cape. I detached my release and my arm guard and put them on, carefully ignoring the fact that I was in a forest instead of a dressing room, and focusing on the super-realistic details of whatever hallucination I was experiencing. I loosened the bow sling strap until it could fit easily over the fur cape and put it on backwards. I unsnapped everything, took out my Bear Siren Shadow Series, shoved my Cabela's camo visor and matching sunglasses back into the sling and pushed the sling around behind me. I detached the quiver from the bow, took out an arrow and threaded it to the whisker biscuit. _Six arrows . . . with practice tips _. . . _blunt, but still very capable of damaging something._ I pushed the cloak off my right shoulder, secured the release, pulled back the bow string and stared down my field sight. I looked around for a moment searching for a target.

The shuffling sound caught my attention again.

_What is that and why does it sound familiar? And why is it making me anxious?_

Still looking through the sight I peered over the edge of the rock. Something flew by me and made a wet sound as it hit the rock behind me. I turned my head slowly, horror-movie style and saw a glob of blue-green acidy goo sizzling on the rock. I could feel myself hyperventilating as the shuffling started again.

_Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit-shit-shiiiiiit!_

I looked back through the sight and felt myself shaking. It was all I could do to force the fingers of my left hand open so I wouldn't pull the shot. I flicked the release, plastered myself back against the wall, and then . . .

I screamed, like I've never screamed before. . .


	3. Hello Handsome, please don't kill me

"Okay . . . it's over. You can stop screaming now." The voice came from somewhere below the ledge, and it didn't sound Nordic. "Hello? Surely you aren't hiding after all of that racket you made, are you?" In fact the voice sounded oddly . . . Ferelden?

I peeked over the ledge and saw a very dead Frostbite spider with an arrow sticking out of it. There was also a large sword sticking out of the head and that sword removed itself as I watched.

"Are . . . are you sure it's safe?" I ventured.

There was a low chuckle, followed by, "Ah . . . and the owner of the lovely set of lungs speaks. As to whether it's safe or not, all I can tell you is that this . . .thing–"

"That's a frostbite spider," I interjected.

"Oh, is it? Well, it is dead, and I don't see any more around so, yes – yes it's safe."

The owner of the voice stepped into my line of sight and grinned up at me_. Short sandy blonde hair, warm, hazel eyes, sexy boyish grin, massive armor._ I felt my breath catch.

"Alistair?!" It came out as a shriek.

He jumped and his eyes narrowed, "Maybe . . . who's asking."

"I think," I muttered, "I'm going to . . . to . . ."

His expression changed from curiosity to concern as I swayed on my feet. "Are you going to faint?" he asked.

"No," I breathed.

"Step away from the edge!" he barked.

I stumbled back and my vision swam. "I'm . . . I'm going to . . . fangirl." And then I was falling.

* * *

When my eyes opened, I was staring up at a chiseled jawline covered in blonde stubble. I sighed and then Alistair Therin was smirking down at me. I blinked and a grin worked its way onto my face.

"What?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

I turned my head to get a better look at him and my hood fell back. "I just . . . wow!"

His eyes widened, "I'll say."

I felt myself blush, which was odd. "You're Alistair Therin," I stated.

"Yeeees, but how do you know that?"

"Are we, in Ferelden?" I glanced around cautiously, and then realized he was carrying me, bridal style through the forest. _Through the forest . . . on the ground . . ._ My nerves went into overdrive. My pulse pounded in my head. All thoughts except, "GIANT FREAKING SPIDER" fled my head and my body jackknifed in his arms as I looked frantically around for the corpse.

Alistair stopped walking, and moved to put me down. My arms locked around his neck, I made an unintelligible sound of panic and clung to him like a cat being lowered toward a bath.

"Umm . . ." he tried.

"The spider," I whispered, "where is it?"

He stifled a sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "You've been out of it for at least an hour. It's well behind us."

I forced myself to breath slowly, and loosened the death grip I had around his neck, with a sheepish expression. "Sorry," I muttered, "I'm terrified of them."

"So I see," he commented blandly.

We stared at each other for a moment. His eyes seemed to lock on the still frantic pulse jumping along my neck. After a moment he shifted me slightly in his arms and kept walking.

I swallowed and tried again, "So are we in Ferelden? Because this doesn't look like Ferelden, and you don't have Frostbite spiders there, right? The only place I know of that has them is Skyrim."

He stopped walking again and gently set me down, keeping one hand at my waist. " You don't know where we are?"

"Um . . . no," I said helpfully. "Wait . . . you don't know where we are?"

"I'm afraid not, except that no, this is not Ferelden. How did you come to be here, and how do you know my name?"

I stared at him for a moment. "I . . ."

He raised an eyebrow and stared at me expectantly.

"You first," I blurted out.

He shook his head, "I don't think so."

I gave him my best pout and was rewarded with a twitch of his lips, before he crossed his arms and stared down at me with a forced frown.

I fidgeted with my cape and tried to decide what to tell him . . .

"How about the truth," he said, as if reading my mind.

I sighed. "The last thing I remember is being fitted for a gown for my cousin's wedding and I tripped and fell through a mirror . . . I think . . . and then I woke up here."

His brow furrowed. "And how do you know my name?"

A wicked, wicked, thought entered my mind and I decided to have a little fun. I grinned and motioned him towards me. He leaned in. "We met once, in a dream," I whispered. "We were licking lampposts in winter."

I expected a schoolboy blush, instead he went white with fury. "_Not fun!" _my brain screamed. I took a quick step back and would have fallen if he hadn't reached out and grabbed both my arms. He jerked me none to gently up and toward him. "Am I trapped in the Fade?" He gave me a double shake. "Tell me demon, before I end your life."


	4. Not the Boy I used to Know

His brow furrowed. "And how do you know my name?"

A wicked, wicked, thought entered my mind and I decided to have a little fun. I grinned and motioned him towards me. He leaned in. "We met once, in a dream," I whispered. "We were licking lampposts in winter."

I expected a schoolboy blush, instead he went white with fury. "_Not fun!" _my brain screamed. I took a quick step back and would have fallen if he hadn't reached out and grabbed both my arms. He jerked me none to gently up and toward him. "Am I trapped in the Fade?" He gave me a double shake. "Tell me demon, before I end your life."

"Wh…wh…what?" I stammered.

"The truth," he repeated, punctuating each word with another shake. "Are we in the Fade?"

"I don't know! I just woke up here."

"Tell me what you know! Tell me how you got here!" He was growling now, and it was starting to really scare me.

"You won't believe me," I whispered. "You'll leave me here," glancing around the darkening forest, I was suddenly very afraid – my last word came out as a squeak, "alone."

His grip on my arms tightened painfully. This was not the Alistair I thought I knew. "Please, you're hurting me."

To my surprise, a guilty look crossed his face. He released me immediately and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm acting like an ass. I won't leave you out here, I promise. What's your name?"

I sighed in momentary relief. "My name is . . ." I stopped, puzzled. _My name is . . ._ I looked at him, slightly panicked, "I . . . I don't know my name. I know your name, and probably everything about you, but I don't know my own name? What is happening?"

"Let's just make camp, and we'll talk about that, later," he said.

I nodded and took a teetering step forward with arms outstretched for balance and then cursed as I went down "Shit! Andraste's knickerweasels!"

"Maker's breath!" he muttered and scooped me up.

I smirked and threw an arm around his neck. _This is just the best kind of hallucination. I am probably passed out on the dressing room floor. I hope I don't scream out his name mid-coma. _I felt myself blush again and tried to stifle a giggle.

"What?" he demanded.

To cover, I pulled up my dress slightly and straightened a leg revealing the 4 inch heels I was wearing. "It's not really my fault. How well could you walk the wilderness in these?"

He stared at my foot for longer than I thought he needed to and I saw him swallow. "Point taken," he said.

"Although . . . perhaps you could dance the Remigold in them," I said slyly, "you know, if they were paired with a really pretty dress."

His head snapped down and his eyes narrowed again.

"I'll be quiet," I said meekly.

After a few minutes of silence a troubling thought occurred to me. _What if he isn't here alone? That would be just my luck, to get carried into camp and find Elissa or Solona waiting there all . . . gorgeous and warrior-princessy. _

A while later we arrived at a make-shift camp. Alistair set me on my feet and began building up the fire. I stood and stared around me, suddenly feeling very lonely. I walked over to where he stood.

"Um, Alistair,"

"Hmm?"

"What do I look like?"

"What?" he asked skeptically.

I nervously fingered the long dark hair that had fallen about my shoulders. "Well, the thing is . . ." I held up the lock of hair, "this isn't right. I'm supposed to have blonde wavy hair, and blue eyes, and," I pushed back the cloak and turned one arm, "a scar right here . . . but, I don't. So, what do I look like?"

He stared at me for a moment.

I turned away from him and carefully unclasped the cloak and laid it inside his tent. As an afterthought I reached up and felt my scalp, pulling out several hair pins that were there. My new dark silky hair fell to my waist. I grinned and turned around.

His mouth fell open.

"What?!" I shrieked. "What's wrong?"

"No –nothing," he stammered, "it's just . . . wow."

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and then bent my knees and leaned over and blew him a kiss. He turned bright red and looked away. I picked up my skirt, draped the train over my arm and bounced over to him.

"Eeee!" I squealed. "You think I'm pretty," I singsong'd. "What color are my eyes? Do I have any beauty marks? Do I have long lashes? What about my eyebrows – are they thin and arched? Oh gods! I don't have tattoos do I?"

He looked back at me slightly stricken. "Green—"

"Bright green, emerald green, sea green, meadow green? What kind of green?" I bounced.

His eyes travelled downward and then snapped back up to my face. "Please stop bouncing," he said tightly.

I pouted.

"They're light green, and yes you have long black lashes and your eyebrows are thin and . . . archy or whatever. No freckles or anything and no tattoos."

"What else? What about my nose?"

"It's cute," he smirked.

I made a face.

"Especially when you wrinkle it like that?" he added.

I grinned and hugged myself. "I have no idea who I am," I puzzled, "this isn't one of my characters . . . is it?"

"One of your . . . characters?"

_Shit! Was that out loud? Well, what do I really have to lose anyway?_

I sighed and wandered over to stand in front of the fire. "Alistair," I started, "you might want to sit down. This won't be easy to hear."


	5. Life is but a game

I sighed and wandered over to stand in front of the fire. "Alistair," I started, "you might want to sit down. This won't be easy to hear."

An hour later he was pacing back and forth. "My world, the blight, my LIFE, is a GAME to you!" he barked.

"A really expensive, involved game," I said lamely. "You are really not taking this well, at all," I complained.

"And you . . . in this game . . . are whatever recruit Duncan brings to Ostegar."

"Yes."

"And you can play over and over again?" he demanded.

_Where is he going with this? _"Yes . . ." I said cautiously.

Suddenly he stormed towards me. "You let Duncan die!" he yelled.

My eyes widened in horror. _Of course that's where he'd take it. _"No! Alistair, no! I would never have let that happen if I had control over it. I only got to make a few decisions and I don't know what will happen in advance. But I do know there's no way I could have saved Duncan."

"How can I trust you with that?!" he yelled, almost in my face.

_Okay, the from another world thing he jumps on board with, but this – this he gets hung up on. _To my absolute horror tears started up. "How can you trust ME?! You broke my heart you son-of-a-bitch! I gave you everything, fell in love with you, handed you the kingdom and you told me you needed a wife who could give you an heir and kicked me to the curb! I DIED for you, you bastard!"

His face went white and he grabbed my arms, "What?!" he hissed.

_Well shit. _"I . . . I died for you. I left you to defend the gates during the final battle and I killed the arch-demon and sacrificed myself." I shook free of his grasp.

"Who?" he demanded, "who died for me? You are very much alive."

"I did, well my character did and –"

"Your character," he spat. "It wasn't even you there – just a . . . shadow. It wasn't real."

"It was real – I still felt it. Don't worry. After you tore my heart out I . . . my character, didn't want to live anymore anyway. Much better to bow out gracefully so you could have it all . . . a family, the throne, happiness . . . everything I worked for you to have. Oh and you dumped me in front of our entire party, so thanks for that – asshole."

"That didn't happen," he said lowly.

"Didn't it?" I challenged. "Didn't you pick that rose in Lothering, and think of me?"

Alistair guided me over to a log in front of the fire and sat us both down. "I did see a rose in Lothering, and I picked it. I thought—"

". . . what a rare and beautiful thing to find in all that death and destruction, yes I know," I finished for him.

He swallowed. "I . . . I'm sorry, but . . . have you remembered your name yet?"

"No," I snapped.

"I'd like to call you something . . . Rose?" he offered.

I stared daggers at him.

"Or not," he said.

"Everlyn," I said finally, "was my grandmother's name. You can call me that, or Eve for short . . . or Rose, I guess, if you must."

"Eve is very pretty," he said. "I'd like to call you that, please."

"Fine. Do it."

He took my hand. "What you're describing, Eve . . . well, I've had . . . dreams occasionally, but that's not what happened". His voice grew dark, "not this time."

I eyed him caustically. There was a flash of pain in his eyes and I felt my heart flip-flop. "I'm sorry, too," I said softly. "Tell me everything that happened."

He smiled and stood to remove his armor. "I will," he said, "after dinner."

"You're cooking?" I said, slightly alarmed.

He laughed then. "No, fortunately a piercing scream scared away all of the game earlier today, so we'll be eating bread and cheese and whatever else is left in my pack."

I grinned up at him. "Ever had a grilled cheese sandwich?"


	6. The line begins to blur

**I'm switching away from our OC's POV as her memories begin to go. As she begins to lose her self, all she has left to identify with is her mirror image, Eve.**

* * *

"Maker's breath!" Alistair said, patting his stomach. "That was brilliant!"

The brunette beauty sitting a few feet away winked at him and nibbled on the last grilled cheese. "It's better with butter."

His eyes sparkled and she laughed. "You are truly adorable," she muttered.

Alistair waggled his eyebrows at her. "Aren't I though?" he teased.

Eve tore off another bite of grilled cheese and then handed him the rest of the sandwich. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and watched the fire in the darkness. After a bit Alistair found himself studying her profile. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and her brow creased in a frown.

"Eve," he questioned, "what is it?"

She looked up at him. "I . . . keep forgetting."

"Forgetting what?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, just everything. The story I just told you, about the game. I know it's true, and I remember playing it, but . . ."

"But what?," he prompted quietly.

Eve sighed. "I can't remember anything about where I was when I played it. I know I was in my room, but I can't remember the furniture, or my clothes or my life . . . it's all slipping away from me." She looked around for a moment. "And this place – Skyrim. I know that's where we are, and I should know it like the back of my hand . . . but it's all so unclear. Alistair, do you . . . do you really think we could be trapped in the Fade?"

He gave himself a mental kick and patted the log next to him. Eve scooted closer and he wrapped an arm around her. Before he could speak, she sat bolt upright. "This, this right here, you see – this could be me in the Fade. You wouldn't be putting your arm around me. You're supposed to be all shy and virginal and chantry-boyish . . ." she trailed off at Alistair's amused expression, ". . . at least at first," she finished lamely.

Alistair smirked at her. _Charming creature._ "At first?" he said.

"Yes, at first." Alistair watched as a light blush washed across her features. "Before we . . . umm . . . well, before my wish was your command," she said, averting her gaze.

He stared down at her for a moment before letting his gaze wander along with his thoughts. _What would it have been like to have this enchantress by his side for the last year? _He couldn't begin to imagine the amount of pleasure it would have taken for him to ever say something like _that_ to her. That kind of commitment simply wasn't in his nature, not anymore. His smirk turned slightly predatory. _Well maybe I can begin to imagine . . ._ His eyes finally made their way back up to hers and the expression in them jarred him back to their current reality. Her pupils were blown and she was trembling slightly.

Her voice came out as the softest whisper when she spoke. "You are not the man I knew. What happened to you, Alistair?"

His jaw clenched and she reached up to brush her fingertips against it.

"I wasn't there this time, was I?" she asked.

He shook his head and looked away from her.

Her fingertips came back to his jaw, and gently turned his face toward hers. He glared down at her savagely. Eve stood for a moment and then sat down crossways on his lap with her arms around his neck. She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his so softly he thought for a moment he imagined it. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

A flare of anger ignited in Alistair and it hit him like a tidal wave. _I don't need her pity. _Eve yelped in shock as his right hand tangled in her hair and jerked her head back, his left arm locking her against him. He knew he was leaving bruises as his mouth assaulted the column of her throat, but he didn't care. He expected her to resist, but she melted against him and sighed his name. His hand left her hair and groped the soft roundness of her breast. She did resist then. She began to struggle against him. "Come on," he growled tauntingly at her, "show me how sorry you are."

The resounding slap across his face was not something he expected and he let her go. Her green eyes sparked with fury and he could tell she wanted to hit him again. Her voice was acid burning through a razor when she spoke, "What the FUCK is wrong with you?" she demanded. "What . . . the FUCK?"

Alistair bolted from his position and stalked toward her. He expected her to cower as he advanced on her, but she stood her ground with fire in her eyes. "You're right," he grated out, "I'm not the man you think you knew, so don't push me."

"Do you want me to be afraid of you, Alistair?" she said quietly.

And just like that his anger deflated. "I . . . no. No, I don't."

"What do you want from me?" she asked hesitantly.

He wiped a hand across his eyes. "Maker, I don't know. It's just you're not supposed to be here . . . I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be dead."

Eve's eyes widened in shock and she pushed him gently back toward where they'd been sitting. "Please, tell me everything . . . from the beginning."

"To begin with," Alistair said tightly, "in addition to Daveth and Jory, Duncan brought two new recruits to Ostegar. And it's a disgrace to all the men who died there to call either of them Wardens."


	7. Sod It

"Two recruits? Who were they?"

Alistair stared into the fire, unwilling to lance the wound that had been infecting his soul for the last year. After a few moments of silence he got up, and picked up two logs to add to the fire.

"Did I say two?" he gave Eve a sidelong grin. She nodded and grinned back at him, but felt a chill run down her spine as she realized his was a fake smile. She flinched as he chucked the logs down in a flurry of sparks. Alistair sauntered toward her, but instead of sitting next to her he reclined on the ground with his back against the log and stared off into the fire again. Eve was close to prompting him with a kick in the head when he finally spoke.

"Duncan returned to Ostagar from his recruiting trip with two mages from the circle tower, Solona and Neria. The other two, the twins, showed up on their own."

Eve felt her face scrunch in annoyance, "The twins?"

"Yes, the twins . . ." Alistair bit out, "Aedan and Elissa Cousland."

"But, that doesn't make any sense. What happened?"

Alastair's mind wandered back to the first time he'd seen the Cousland twins speaking with Cailan and Loghain. _Elissa's grey eyes welling with tears, her auburn hair falling loose from its braid, her gown tattered at the hem and torn and sliding off her shoulder as she shook in Cailan's embrace . . . Aedan, with his head bent close to Loghain's, the older man's hand on his shoulder, while they both looked toward Elissa in concern . . . concern indeed._

Eve cleared her throat and Alistair shook his head and continued. "Aedan and Elissa arrived bearing the news of the massacre at Highever, by Howe. They were . . . distraught. They'd returned from a night-time hunt to find the castle under attack. One of the escaping servants told them that everyone inside was already dead and that Howe's men had taken the castle. They fled on horseback with what supplies they had in an attempt to find their brother Fergus and warn him of the danger-"

"—but he was already scouting for the King at Ostagar, right?" Eve interrupted.

"Are you going to let me tell this story?" Alistair huffed.

"Sorry."

"No, he wasn't out scouting. He was dead."

"What?" Eve gasped.

"Poisoned, "Alistair said flatly.

"But . . . but…"

"Yes, okay, he was out scouting, but by the time Duncan returned with his new recruits Fergus was missing and Cailan was set to declare Aedan the new Teryn that is until Duncan conscripted him."

"I can't imagine that went over well," Eve commented dryly.

"Not in the least. Although after some close conversation with Loghain, it was agreed to and then some . . . that's how Duncan ended up with Aedan and Elissa both. At the time we all thought Elissa was so heartbroken and afraid of losing her only surviving family member that she volunteered."

"That wasn't the case?"

Alistair snorted, "Hardly."

Eve ran a hand over her eyes, "Okay, so what about Solona and Neria?"

"Rivals," Alistair stated, "at everything. I'm not sure what Duncan was thinking, except that he could keep them separated. I took all of the recruits to the wilds to gather materials for the joining, and that's when I first knew we had problems. Neria killed a survivor from a scouting party because she said we didn't have time to deal with him, she and Solona nearly injured the rest of us in their never ending battle to prove themselves better than each other, and that's also when we met Morrigan . . .and to top it off the Witch of the Wilds told me that I would be overcome by the fires of war. So, by the time we got back to camp I was not in the best of spirits."

"I tried to talk to Duncan about it, but he just said that the joining would be the judge. Jory and Daveth did not make it through, but the others did."

"Was that the night of the battle?"

"Every night was the night of a battle, but if you're asking if that's the night the army was decimated then, yes. I was stationed on the battlefield along with Duncan and Cailan and Solona. Aedan, Elissa and Neria were to light the signal in the Tower of Ishal. When the signal didn't come, Solona and I were dispatched to find out why. We found the tower overrun with darkspawn and Neria dying on the second floor. She said the twins thought there was no way to get to the top and had left to tell Loghain on foot. She fought bravely with a few soldiers, but they were too much for her. She asked Solona to heal her . . . she gave her a quick death instead."

"Wait! She what?! WHAT?!"

Alistair looked up at Eve over his shoulder. An expression of horror was etched on her face, and her eyes were beginning to tear up. "She . . . she killed her? And you let her?"

"I didn't know what she was doing until it was too late, and by then I needed her to get to the top of the tower, or I would've brought down a Smite so hard on her she wouldn't have cast for a week."

Eve was shaking her head in denial, "No, no this isn't right. This can't be right. That's not how it's supposed to happen. I can't believe it."

Alistair shrugged, "Believe it princess, and don't act like you're better than the rest of us, if anything you're sicker than they are. We had to live it – you did it for fun."

Eve stared at him woodenly, her face suddenly devoid of expression. _You rat bastard. You wanna play dirty? Nobody does bitch like the 21__st__ century._ "How about you speed this story along then, Chantry-boy? It's only fun the first time - at least where you're concerned."

Alistair's gazed heated for a moment, but he turned back to the fire. "You want the short version? Fine, Solona, Elissa, Aedan and I woke up at Flemeth's hut in the wilds. Loghain had quit the field after the signal, Cailan and the Wardens were dead, the army scattered. Flemeth sent Morrigan with us to help stop the blight. I hated her at first, but she ended up being my only true friend.

"Morrigan?" Eve said skeptically. "Morrigan was your friend?"

"Yes. In the beginning the only bright spot was Elissa. She was beautiful, compassionate and when her brother took up with Solona, she was lonely. It didn't take long for us to become lovers. She was everything I'd ever dreamed about . . ."

"How'd that work out for you?" Eve questioned acidly.

"Well, turns out she was a lying whore. Not only had she been fucking my brother, Loghain, and an assassin we picked up along the way, apparently she amused herself with her own brother on a regular basis as well."

"I'm sorry . . . she what now?"

"You heard me. Anyway, I loved her and because of it I let her and Aedan lead us. Everything we touched seemed to turn to ashes. We slaughtered werewolves in the forest because the twins thought it would be fun to re-enact the lives of their ancestors, we killed all the mages in the circle tower, Solona turned to blood magic, Aedan defiled the ashes of Andraste, we put a golum-making kin-slayer on the throne in Orzamar, Connor was killed . . ." Alistair paused and dropped his head in his hands. "And no matter my objection, she could always overcome it – anything to stop the Blight."

Eve's voice was icy when she spoke, "And in the end?"

The fire had died down to ashes as he spoke, and Alistair moved to add more logs. In a crouch, he stared at Eve through the flames. "And in the end, I was chosen to duel Loghain at the Landsmeet and I killed him. Aedan had claimed to put me forward for the throne, but chose to marry Anora instead. He and Elissa had plotted with Howe from the beginning to overthrow their parents and seize power from their brother . . . with one of them on the throne and heir to Gwaren and the other in control of Highever they will achieve absolute power. Other than the blight there was only one threat left . . ."

"You," Eve whispered.

"Yeah," he agreed bitterly, "me. The twins didn't feel like dying, so they sent Solona and I into the final battle. The assassin traveling with us, Zevran, found me the night before and warned me that if I didn't fall battling the arch-demon, I was to be executed or imprisoned."

"But you fought anyway, instead of running . . ."_Maybe there's something redeeming in him._

Alistair stood, and stared down at her, his face a sinister mask of shadows and firelight. "Yes, I fought. I fought Solona when she turned to Blood Magic and became an abomination during the final battle, I fought the troops sent to ambush me if the arch-demon didn't finish me off, and finally I fought the beast itself. . . only to wake in agony and hear Morrigan say she'd found a loop in my hole, and that she was sending me to the beginning to find the first woman in the mirror, whatever that means. Then Wynne healed me and started glowing and everything went dark. I woke up here with a week's worth of supplies. Two days later my new life in the middle of nowhere was interrupted by screaming."

Alistair stared down at his companion tying to gage her reaction. She appeared to be holding back . . ._tears? Was she crying? She had a hand over her mouth . . .NO, fuck no she was laughing!_ "What," he growled, "is so maker-damned funny?"

"Morrigan," she answered.

"What about her?"

"She sent you here and told you to find the first woman in the mirror."

"Yes"

"I fell through a mirror."

"And?"

"There is a creation story in my world. The maker created the first man, named Adam and the first woman . . . named Eve."

Alistair stared at her blankly for a moment before speaking. "Sod it . . . I'm going to bed. Wake me in a few hours and I'll take a turn at watch." With that he walked off leaving her staring into the fire.


	8. It's okay, he's Nordic

Several hours later, Eve sat in front of the fire wracking her brain for any clue as to who she was and how she fit into the world surrounding her. The only thing she knew for sure was Alistair . . . and she didn't know if she could depend on him. She was suddenly overcome by a wave of loneliness. She stood up quickly when she felt the first tears slip down her face and swallowed the wracking sob that threatened to overtake her. After a moment of looking around the camp she spied what appeared to be a lute near Alistair's tent. She tiptoed over and picked it up, then made her way back over to the fire. Although she really had no idea what she was doing she began to pluck lightly at the strings staring off into the darkness. After a while she realized that not only were her fingers moving deftly over the strings, but she'd been playing a familiar tune for the last few minutes. Her brow wrinkled and she tried to remember the words, as she played through it slowly.

"Dancing, slowly through and empty room . . . hmm-hmm-hmm. Then you go and let the lonely in . . ."

She sighed in frustration and decided to just close her eyes and play, singing whatever words came to her. She played through the intro a few times and then began to sing quietly. She paused at the sound that came out of her throat. She remembered having voice lessons, but the clear sweet sound that poured out of her took her by surprise. She smiled and began to sing again letting her emotions slip into the words.

_"2am, where do I begin_

_Crying off my face again_

_The silent sound of loneliness_

_Wants to follow me to bed_

_I'm the ghost of a girl_

_That I want to be most_

_I'm the shell of a girl_

_That I used to know well"_

Eve hesitated a moment, trying to recall the next words, and then smiled as they came to her. She continued,

_"Dancing slowly in an empty room_

_Can the lonely take the place of you_

_I sing myself a quiet lullaby_

_Then you go and let the lonely in_

_To take my heart again"_

Alistair stirred in his sleep. For a moment he thought he was back at camp, in the days right after Lothering, with Leliana singing sweetly nearby and he smiled. After a few moments his brow wrinkled. The voice singing was clear, and had a much less breathy quality than Leliania's, and where Liliana's voice had an almost too sweet lilting accent the voice he was hearing was . . . different. It was almost hauntingly beautiful with a soft and slow honeyed accent that felt like it was melting over him. He sat up quietly and listened in the darkness:

_"Too afraid, to go inside_

_For the pain of one more loveless night_

_For the loneliness will stay with me_

_And hold me till I fall asleep_

_I'm the ghost of a girl_

_That I want to be most_

_I'm the shell of a girl_

_That I used to know well_

_Dancing slowly in an empty room_

_Can the lonely take the place of you_

_I sing myself a quiet lullaby_

_Then you go and let the lonely in_

_To take my heart again"_

Eve sighed and played through the chorus before lifting her voice into a sweet crescendo.

_"Broken pieces of_

_A barely breathing story_

_Where there once was love_

_Now there's only me_

_And the lonely..."_

Allistair exhaled quietly in the darkness and exited the tent silently. He stared toward the dying fire. Eve was sitting sideways legs stretched out on the log, eyes closed, face turned to the sky, singing to herself. Not bothering with a shirt, he tugged on his boots and pants and padded silently over. She started when he sat down behind her, but kept singing. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist under the lute and rested his chin on her shoulder.

_"Dancing slowly in an empty room_

_Can the lonely take the place of you_

_I sing myself a quiet lullaby_

_Then you go and let the lonely in_

_To take my heart again._

_I'm the ghost of a girl_

_That I want to be most_

_I'm the shell of a girl_

_That I used to know well…"*_

She drew a shaky breath as her voice trailed off into the darkness and leaned her head back on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I hope it's alright that I borrowed –"

"Sing it for me again," he asked quietly.

Eve smiled and began to strum the lute again, letting the music flow through her vocal cords and fingertips. A while later she yawned and Alistair chuckled. He walked her to the tent and bent to retrieve an extra tunic from his satchel. Eve crawled into the tent and barely managed to maneuver herself out of the dress and all its accessories without pulling the tent down around her. She cursed and heard muffled laughter from outside. With a grin, she pulled Alistair's shirt over her head and snuggled into the waiting bedroll.

* * *

"Rise and shine Princess,"

Eve groaned and pulled the fur covers further over her head. "Go'way!" she growled.

Alistair poked his head into the tent flaps to find nothing but a bundle of covers. He smirked and reached underneath them, feeling around until he found his target. Grabbing hold of one of Eve's ankles under the covers he began to mercilessly tickle her foot with his other hand. She shrieked and shot up on the bedroll squirming and kicking. He let go when her heel caught him on the shoulder and laughing, he stood up and walked off. A few moments later there was a slight commotion and Eve emerged still half asleep and completely disheveled. Her long hair stuck out in every direction like a mane around her face. His tunic fell to almost her knees, but the neck was way too big and slipped off one shoulder. She'd shoved her feet into a pair of his spare boots and half stepped, half tripped out of the tent, turning to give it a dirty look as though it were the tent's fault. She shuffled over to him sleepily and shivered in the cool morning air.

"Good Morning," Alistair grinned, "aren't you looking radiant."

Eve pulled a face and looked around blearily for a moment before trudging off toward the nearby stand of trees.

"Where are you going?" Alistair questioned.

"Nature calls," she muttered.

'What?"

Eve just growled in response and kept walking. She'd half expected to wake up somewhere else. Although she couldn't remember why at the moment. She found a secluded spot to relieve herself and then followed the sound of water to the edge of a fast-moving stream. She stepped out of Alistair's boots and stepped into the water, only to yelp and dance backward at its frigid temperature. Wrapping the tunic tight around her legs, she forced herself to wade in ankle deep and squatted down to splash some frigidly cold water onto her face. Then she stood up and ran her wet fingers through her long hair like a comb. She pulled it over her shoulders to braid and headed for the bank.

She'd just stepped into her borrowed boots and finished the second braid when a large hand clamped over her mouth and a muscled arm wrapped around her waist lifting her off the ground. She was too shocked to struggle as she was dragged silently backward up a rocky bank. A moment later her wits returned and she bit down on the hand over her mouth and rammed her elbows backward into the rock-hard abs of the person behind her. There was a muffled "Oomph" and the arm around her waist shifted until there was a hand between her legs cupping her through her underwear. Eve went stock still and whimpered slightly. After a moment her captor stopped moving and returned his arm to her waist. She felt his breath against her ear.

"Now," said a heavily accented Nord voice, "I'm going to let you go, but you have to be quiet. Do you understand?"

Eve nodded frantically, ready to scream bloody murder the moment his hand left her mouth.

The man chuckled. "Not likely, but before you scream your wee head off and get us both killed, look over there," he said quietly.

His arm was still locked around her but she looked where he turned her head. A few yards from where she'd been standing, something was lurking. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen before – huge and brown with long arms and claws and fangs she could clearly see from the rock where they were hidden.

The hand over her mouth loosened.

"What is that?" she breathed.

"Troll. I expect it would have made quick work of you."

Eve turned slowly, having trouble tearing her eyes away from the hulking beast that was shuffling away from them.

The man standing uncomfortably close to her was huge. He looked like a body-builder right down to his impossibly dark tan and bleached blonde hair. She felt her eyes widen as she took in his studded animal hide armor and the various weapons strapped to him. He certainly looked intimidating, but damn was he attractive, although he definitely could have used a bath. "Thank you," she said, finally meeting his eyes.

"I'm Valdr," he said, grinning. "I hunt out of Falkreath."

Eve smiled back at him alluringly. "I'm Eve…" suddenly she remembered something and her eyes narrowed. "Are you in the habit of groping the women you save?"

To her extreme annoyance, he grinned even more. "Do you always tromp through the woods half-naked looking like you're ready for a good bedding?"

The sound of a sword leaving it's sheath made them both jump, and had Valdr reaching for his weapons as Alistair appeared from around the corner of the rock outcropping. Eve signed in relief and hurried over to him.

Alistair looked at Valdr with murder in his eyes. "Did he touch you?" he growled at Eve.

"He saved me from a wild animal," Eve said. "I wasn't paying attention, it could have killed me. And yes, he did touch me rather, inappropriately . . . but I was going to draw the beast's attention."

Alistair lowered his weapon with a sigh and addressed the bulky Nord in front of him. "Thank you, I am in your debt."

Valdr relaxed, visibly relieved that he wouldn't be fighting the tall warrior in the most impressive armor he'd ever seen. "Glad to do it. It'd be a shame for someone that pretty to be mauled by one of those beasts. I'd best be on my way – I'm headed back to Falkreath to gather the rest of my hunting party." He hesitate for a moment, "Unless you folks would like to join me . . . you don't look like you're from around here."

* * *

Lyrics from The Lonley by Christina Perri

Chapter Title is a nod to a line from Crocodile Dundee 2


End file.
